Perils
by Nini the Electrocuted Sheep
Summary: A series of smutfics featuring Yuki and Shuichi in a variety of smutty situations. All of which end in smut. Warning, PWP – Porn WITH Plot! Blame it on the Fab 5. Have I mentioned the SMUT? LOL, it was so funny when this fic had 69 reviews.. *gigglesnort*
1. Formal Black Tie Events

**Authoress's note:** here before you are 1708 words' worth of my writing pure smut, (but humorous smut!) which was inspired by an episode of _Queer Eye for the Straight Guy_. It's _entirely _the Fab 5's fault! (See end note for further explanation).

**Rating: **M. As in, the equivalent of R or NC-17. This is **SMUT**, people! With just a bit of bondage, heh.

**Disclaimer: **if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

* * *

**The Perils of Formal Black-Tie Events**

--

I'm already home when you return. You've been to the latest of your book-related events; this time it was a formal dinner celebrating the first movie production of one of your books. It was black-tie, (or bowtie, in your case) and I'm glad I got home before you, because now I get to see you all dolled up in a tuxedo. And, even better, I get to be the one to take it off.

I'd have gone with you, but I had an event, too. Not black-tie, (fortunately) but also a celebration: Bad Luck's latest album, _hyper-squared_, has gone double-platinum. The party began at noon with a concert which included some of our older hits as well as the new: _The Rage Beat_ has made a comeback, it seems. Sakuma-san came to sing with me again.

I tell you all of this as I undress you. You've undone your bowtie already (no doubt in the car on your way home) so I begin by sliding it out of your opened shirt-collar and laying it carefully on the dresser. Then I slowly unbutton your black jacket, admiring the small blossom pinned to your lapel. Next come off the cuffs, and your white dress shirt. I flirt with the buttons of your pants as I go into rather excruciating detail of Ryu-chan's outfit, which was, unbelievably, more colourful and quirky even than mine.

All this time you've been silent, though I've looked up coyly through my eyelashes to see you biting your lip several times – as my fingers graze your nipples, as the palm of my hand pushes against the bulge in your underwear... Finally you've had enough, and you almost growl as you tear the pants from my hands and throw them to the floor. Next you throw me onto the bed, and pounce like the catlike creature your eyes sometimes remind me of.

"Keep talking," you growl dangerously, your first words since arriving home. "I'd like to see you keep talking while I have my way with you."

I laugh and pause in my narrative to swipe my tongue enticingly over my lips. "Give it your best shot," I challenge you. "I am, after all, a vocalist."

You laugh. "God knows, you're vocal in bed. One of these days I'll have to gag you, or the neighbors will complain."

I stick my tongue out at you and raise my arms obligingly as you lift my T-shirt up and pull it off my shoulders. I babble on as your wet mouth latches onto one of my nipples and sucks, while your long, slender fingers slide beneath the waistband of my boxer shorts. You toy with me for a while, obviously wanting revenge for my teasing before that.

Trying my best not to buck up into your warm hand, I decide to exact my own revenge by singing the one song that's always gotten to you: _In the Moonlight_. You've always said my voice has a rather magical effect on you, not unlike the effect your eyes have on me.

You're panting now, my voice arousing you rather than making you feel dreamy and light, as you once described it. You rip my boxers off completely, gripping me firmly and sliding your fingers up-down. My voice breaks but I make myself sing on, until I've gotten to the last reprise and you're singing with me. _In the Moonlight _is the only song you know the lyrics to. We finish it together, and you slide up my body to kiss me roughly.

We come up for air some time later, gasping. "Yuki..." I murmur against your lips, and you press a single finger to mine.

"Shhh," you say. "Quiet now. Get the lube."

Crawling across the bed to get to your drawer where the bottle of oil is, I retrieve it and return to my former position on the bed. Meanwhile you've rummaged through the dresser and come up with two silk ties, and something else you hide by stuffing it under the mattress.

"Hands," you say, and I grin as I extend first one hand, then the other. You wrap each wrist gently in the smooth material, the knots neither tight enough to cut off circulation nor to prevent escape, if I wriggled enough. You affix each wrist to opposite ends of the headboard, leaving enough slack in the ties so I can move my arms a bit.

Not enough, though, to reach down and fist your hair when you begin your descent down the length of my cock. I settle for bucking my hips, trying to shove deeper down your throat, but your hands push my hips down firmly. My legs come up, feet sliding flat against the mattress, thighs already glimmering with sweat.

Lips and tongue still wrapped delightfully around my erection, you reach behind me and pull down one of the pillows, maneuvering it under my lower back so that I'm arched beautifully. I relish the stretch in my back, the slight tug of silk around my wrists, the warm wetness around my cock.

"Yuki..." I whisper breathlessly, "Yuki, I'm going to –"

Your beautiful mouth leaves my cock, and you blow a stream of cold air on it. "Oh, no you don't," you grin evilly, and I squeak. I really was just on the brink of orgasm... You've never cared for the taste, so I always warn you when I'm about to come. Your hand comes to the base of my cock and squeezes, delaying my orgasm undeniably.

All the air leaves my lungs in a single noisy exhalation. You've done this before, and though it's a bit painful at first, the orgasms I've had after something like this have always been rather mind-blowing, so I don't mind too much.

Until you pull out what you've been hiding under the mattress, and I see that it's the bowtie. My eyes widen and I squeak again, hands tugging at the ties around my wrists. _You wouldn't_...

Your eyes catch mine and you give me that evil grin again, as if to say, _Yes_ _I would!_ You wrap the silky black ribbon around the base of my cock and my balls several times, tying it in a very neat bow.

I won't come now, no matter what you do to me. I whimper slightly in erotic frustration, back arching as you reach for the lube, which until now has been left discarded on the bed next to me. Slicking your fingers, you press the tip of one against me, waiting until I've relaxed enough to allow it to enter. I turn boneless when it does, and when a second slender digit joins it I begin to moan.

"Yes, Shu-chan..." you lean down to nuzzle at my bound cock. "Moan for me. Let me hear you. Tell me how much you want me."

"Want you, Yuki," I moan immediately. "Want you inside me ... Yuki, please..."

"I love your voice, Shu-chan. Mm..." you moan appreciatively as you insert a third finger. "You're so tight... sing for me, Shu-chan."

I know you don't really mean for me to sing, but just want me to vocalize my feelings in some way. And vocalize them I do, in moans and whimpers and pleas for more, for now, please!

"_Please_, Yuki! Don't torture me anymore ... please, I need you _now_!"

The fingers withdraw, and I moan again when I hear the sound of oil splashing against your skin. I feel the tip of your cock at my entrance, and your hair tickles my cheek as you whisper, "With a voice like yours, how can I resist?"

You enter me slowly, prolonging the sensations and bringing me to a height of ecstasy I've never before reached. I can feel my heartbeat in every part of my body: in the tips of my fingers and toes, in my head, through my bound cock, and inside me where we are joined.

It doesn't take you long to reach climax, but you still last longer than I thought you would. I certainly wouldn't have lasted if not for that damned bowtie around my cock and balls. We both scream as you tip over the edge, and as I squeeze my muscles around you, milking you for every drop, you reach up and tug the bow free.

It's the release I've been waiting for for the past fifteen minuets or so, and I explode over both our stomachs and chests with a shaky, off-key roar that I shall never admit to uttering.

You reach up to untie my wrists once you're steady enough, and slide out of me carefully. You seem somewhat alarmed at my limp state, and stroke my damp cheek gently.

"Shu? Shuichi, talk to me."

I open my eyes and sigh. "Forget talking, Yuki. I'm going to have to write a song later, because that certainly was ... inspiring."

You laugh as you sit down on the bed next to me and gather me into your arms. "Come on, into the shower with you. How do you feel about a bath?"

"Mmm, Yuki, sometimes I really love you."

"Only sometimes?" you ask with a raised brow as you carry me to the bathroom.

"Only sometimes," I agree. "Times like now, for example..."

You sit me down on the edge of the tub with one arm still around my waist and begin filling the tub with water. Once it is half-full of soapy, jasmine-scented warmth, you lower your long frame into it and gently pull me back against your chest.

"Good?" you ask when I moan in appreciation.

"Perfect," I answer as you begin soaping my chest and stomach. "Yuki..."

"Mm?"

"I think I shouldn't come with you to any formal black-tie events in the future."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because whenever I'll see anyone in a bowtie I'll have to find you and together we'll have to sneak into the toilets and have dirty bathroom sex."

"Right," you answer calmly, though I can feel you getting hard again against my bottom. "No black-tie events, then."

"But what about the dirty bathroom sex?" I whine, grinding back against you.

"I can always come to NG Studios and drag you to the toilets if you want..."

* * *

**End note: **really, it's all their fault. It was the episode with the nudist/naturist, and when they showed him how to wear a tuxedo, Ted asked "Can we put bowties on our Johnsons?" It was all downhill from there. So yeah, blame it on the Fab 5. 


	2. Being a Forgiving Baka

**Authoress's note:** I've decided to turn it into a collection of little stories. They're one-shots, basically, but connected – for instance, this one can be read as a continuation of _The Perils of Formal Black-Tie Events_.

Words in Japanese are in _italics_, and translations are in the end note.

**Rating: **M. This is **SMUT**, people!

**Disclaimer: **if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

* * *

**The Perils of Being a Forgiving Baka**

"...Yuki? What – what are you doing here?"

Hiro sighs as he presses the 'delete' key on the keyboard in the controls-booth of the recording room, yet again erasing the recording they were working on. This is the third time Shuichi has stopped in the middle of recording their latest song.

After the first time, Shuichi had gone red in the face, apologized profusely, and claimed fatigue. Hiro had believed him at the time, as they had all stayed at the studio until 3 AM the previous night, perfecting the lyric.

But on the second time, Shuichi had simply spaced out, mid-word, and stopped singing. It wasn't unusual for the pink-haired vocalist to space out while singing, once he knew the lyrics well enough, but he usually continued singing. Apparently he didn't have the words down quite yet.

And now... now, Yuki had to show up. If anything could disrupt a recording session quite so thoroughly, it was Yuki Eiri. Once he was in the room, Shuichi was either a puddle of goo or a petulant child. It all depended on how well they were getting on at the moment.

That's the way Shuichi works: if things with Yuki were going well, so would his writing and his singing. If things were going awry, it could go either way: either Shuichi would mope and sulk and get nothing done, or he would go into a working frenzy and get more done in a single day than the entire previous week.

At the moment, Shuichi looks more uncertain than anything. Yuki glances at Hiro and at Fujisaki, both glaring at him from behind the controls, and at Shuichi, still in the recording booth, eyes wide and earphones still on his head.

"Sorry for the interruption," he says, "but it's important. I'll need to borrow the _baka_ for a while. I promise to return him in fifteen minuets or so."

"You'd better return him intact," growls K from the hallway behind Yuki, waving a Magnum threateningly in the writer's face. "And coherent. He's still got a song to record."

Yuki nods, then looks at Shuichi, eyebrows raised. "Coming?"

"_Ano_..." Shuichi looks uncertainly at Hiro in the controls-booth. Hiro waves a hand impatiently.

"Go," he says. "Get this worked out and get back here to finish recording. We won't get anything decent out of you before you two solve your problems."

"_Hai_..." Shuichi hangs the headphones over the microphone and exits the recording booth. Once in the hallway with Yuki, he shuffles his feet and keeps his eyes on the floor. "What is it, Yuki? I have a song to record."

Yuki forces himself not to become angry at his words. Shuichi is upset with him, and it's his fault. He takes Shuichi's chin in his fingers and gently forces the vocalist to look at him. "I've come to apologize."

"You –" Shuichi's eyes widen. "You have?" he asks in a small voice. He sounds as hopeful as he does uncertain. "_Hontouni?_"

Yuki nods, his other hand rising so he can cradle Shuichi's face with both palms. "_Aah_. I shouldn't have yelled at you last night; it was wrong of me." He looks to the side, remembering with a grimace how he'd shoved his lover roughly out of his study before locking the door. He forces himself to look back at Shuichi's face and asks quietly, "Did I hurt you?"

Shuichi instinctively shakes his head, but the way he worries at his lower lip gives him away. Yuki bends down to get a closer look at his eyes, then straightens and pulls him into a tight embrace.

"Shuichi... Shu-chan. I heard you cry out. Please forgive me."

Shuichi sniffles against Yuki's shirt and says, "It's just a bruise."

Yuki's arms tighten around him almost protectively before he backs away and asks, "Where? Show me."

Shuichi's hand goes to the tops of his jeans, before he blushes slightly and mutters, "Not here... someone could see."

Yuki chuckles at Shuichi's shyness, and then takes his hand. "Come on, then."

"Eh? What – where? Yuki?"

"Just to the toilets, _baka_. So you can show me where the bruise is."

"...Oh."

Once in the men's room, Shuichi undoes the buttons and zipper of his jeans and pushes them down slightly, revealing a small but livid purple bruise on his left hipbone. Yuki kneels down on the floor to inspect it more closely, running a single long finger around the edge of it. Shuichi flinches back instinctively, not wanting Yuki to poke, but when Yuki looks up at him with wide eyes, Shuichi understands. Yuki is worried that he's afraid of him.

Smiling, Shuichi takes Yuki's hand and places it over the bruise, covering it completely. The warmth of Yuki's palm is comforting, and Shuichi intertwines his fingers with those of Yuki's free hand. "I'm not angry with you, Yuki."

Yuki stands up with a snort. "You've always been too forgiving, _baka,_" he says, and kisses the back of Shuichi's hand, still entwined with his own. He pulls his shorter lover into another embrace, resting his chin against Shuichi's mop of bright pink hair.

"Maybe so," Shuichi smiles, nuzzling at Yuki's collarbone, "but at least I'm your too forgiving _baka_."

Yuki leans back and studies Shuichi's face for a moment. Then he grins. "_Aah_," he agrees, "_Watashi_ _no baka_." He leans in to kiss Shuichi possessively. Shuichi closes his eyes and melts into the kiss, arms going up to circle Yuki's neck, standing on tiptoe.

Coming up breathless, Shuichi opens his eyes and giggles. Yuki arches an eyebrow, asking, "And just what is so funny?"

"Oh – nothing, it's just..." he giggles again. "Well, you did promise me dirty bathroom sex sometime. You said you'd come to NG Studios and drag me off to the toilets."

Yuki's other eyebrow rises to join its partner in amusement. Then he grins and leans down to nibble and bite at Shuichi's neck. "So, it's bathroom sex you want... All right. I can manage that." His hands move to Shuichi's already open jeans.

Shuichi's hands fumble against Yuki's. "What? No, I –" Yuki silences him with another kiss, predatory and demanding. Shuichi's hands fall limp at his sides, and Yuki reaches down to tangle their fingers together again. He steps forward, pushing Shuichi back against the wall by the line of sinks. Shuichi's tongue dances with his own for a moment before the vocalist runs out of air, breaking the kiss to gaze up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. "Yuki..."

Smiling smugly at how easily distracted his young lover is, Yuki begins to maneuver them towards the stall at the end of the room. The sound of the lock sliding shut behind them jolts Shuichi back to his senses.

"Yuki! Don't, we could get caught!" he gasps, fumbling for the lock behind Yuki's back. Yuki grabs his hands and pins them against the wall of the stall, above Shuichi's head. "Yuki!" Shuichi wriggles against Yuki's hands halfheartedly, but Yuki simply grins evilly at him.

"You're not getting away from this, _baka_. You're the one who asked for dirty bathroom sex, and now you're going to get it."

Shuichi's amethyst eyes widen almost comically. "What? That was – I – no, Yuki, that was a joke, I was jo-"

Yuki silences him with another kiss, using the distraction to fully push Shuichi's jeans and underwear down his legs. "That'll teach you to be careful what you wish for or joke about," he says, the amusement evident in his voice. "Turn around."

Shuichi does so, feeling his cock harden despite himself. He loves it when Yuki gets all predatory, and though there's the embarrassingly real chance of them being caught, it's what makes it all the more exciting. He'd never thought Yuki would actually do it, though. It almost makes him giggle again.

Instead he moans as one of Yuki's fingers breaches him, slick and cool with some sort of gel. _Has he started carrying those little packets of lube around again?_ he wonders. Yuki still has both of Shuichi's hands trapped in one of his own, and how he holds them lower against the wall, forcing Shuichi to bend slightly. Shuichi blushes slightly at the image he must make, legs spread wide and bottom pushed up and out, presented to Yuki like a feast.

And indeed, it is that very image that drives Yuki practically to the brink of madness, and he only bothers with three fingers before squeezing out the remainder of the gel in the packet onto his cock, already rock hard. They've both been tested, and so they don't bother with condoms.

Shuichi's only warning before Yuki enters him is the nudge of a knee between his legs, forcing them even wider. Yuki begins slowly, pushing in a tiny bit more every time, until he's buried to the hilt inside Shuichi. His breathing is harsh, the self-restraint it took him not to ram straight in making him feel as though he's run a marathon.

Beneath him, Shuichi is panting as well, bucking back against Yuki. He feels stretched, and full, and so, so right. Yuki is draped over his back, molded to the same angle as him, chest flush against his back. His arms rest over his smaller lover's, wrists still held captive above his head, splayed against the wall. Shuichi finds himself thinking it is the most erotic position they've ever made love in.

He sucks a breath in when Yuki pulls out, almost to the point of leaving his body; then he exhales loudly as Yuki plunges back in, hitting his prostate dead-on. Shuichi's back snaps taught, arching forward tantalizingly. Yuki moans in appreciation at the positioning of Shuichi's body, the arch in his back pushing his bottom against his hips, inviting him deeper inside.

Yuki enjoys teasing and torturing Shuichi, in that he doesn't let the vocalist touch himself while they make love. He adores the whimpers, moans, and assortment of needy, pleading sounds that escape his lover's throat, begging Yuki to touch him. Yuki never does, not until the very last moment. He delights in bringing Shuichi to the very brink of orgasm and then leaving him to hold on until he finishes.

Usually Shuichi is so aroused by then that he'll explode at the slightest touch, the barest of caresses to his oversensitive cock sending him spiraling into orgasm.

This is exactly why Yuki keeps his fingers wrapped around Shuichi's wrists, enjoying the way he squirms against him. He decides to challenge himself this time, and make Shuichi come without touching him where he needs him the most. Instead he bends down just that bit more and fastens his lips to the sensitive spot right under Shuichi's ear.

Shuichi gasps and throws his head back and to the side, allowing Yuki better access to his neck and throat. Yuki can see that his eyes are tightly shut, lips slightly open. One of Yuki's hands wanders down to tangle in the bubble-gum-pink hair, pulling at it to maneuver Shuichi's delectable mouth towards his own. Yuki's own neck cranes slightly to reach, and then he seals his lips to Shuichi's.

Snapping his hips forward sharply, Yuki knows he is pressing right against Shuichi's prostate; he can feel it in the way his lover's body quivers, the way he gasps into his mouth. As his lover loses himself in the euphoria of his rapidly approaching orgasm, Yuki's tongue slides into his mouth, adding just that last bit of erotic stimulation needed to make Shuichi explode.

Yuki breaks the kiss to throw his own head back and gasp as Shuichi tightens around him in orgasm, seeming to almost spasm. It only takes a moment longer for Yuki to find completion, and then they are both panting and shaking with the after-effects of some of the best sex they have ever experienced.

Yuki gently pulls out and supports Shuichi's tired body, reaching for the toilet paper to clean them off. He runs his long fingers through Shuichi's tousled hair, cupping one warm cheek in his palm. Shuichi opens his eyes and smiles sleepily at him.

"Mmm... _arigatou_, Yuki."

Yuki chuckles, tucking Shuichi's head under his chin. "What ever for, _kawaii_ _baka_?"

"For coming to ... apologize."

Another chuckle. "Am I forgiven, then?"

"Of course you are," Shuichi says instantly. "Otherwise we never would have had such mind-blowing bathroom sex."

"Well," Yuki says thoughtfully, "they always say make-up sex is the best. Perhaps we should fight more often."

"Nuuuu, Yuki, don't talk like that..."

"Come on, get dressed," Yuki nudges him gently. "They'll be wanting you back in the studio soon."

"Oh, right..."

"Think you can concentrate on your singing now?" Yuki teases as he buttons his pants. Shuichi sticks his tongue out at him, then undoes the lock on the door of the stall and moves towards the sinks.

"_Gambaru_," he says, splashing cool water on his face. He is just reaching for a paper towel when he hears someone clear their throat by the door. Shuichi freezes. "_Ano_..."

"If you two are quite finished," K says, voice calm but the hand inching towards his shoulder-holster betraying him, "we really _would_ like you back in the studio, Shindou-kun."

"_H-hai_, K-san," Shuichi stutters, blushing furiously. "Yuki..." he turns to kiss his taller lover one last time. "I'll see you tonight?" Yuki nods, nudging him towards the door. K holds it open for him and lets it swing closed after Shuichi has passed through. Then he turns towards Yuki, who is washing his hands.

"Don't look at me like that," the novelist says, raising an eyebrow at the manager. "I've returned him intact and coherent, just like you asked."

"Hmph." K looks doubtful. "You just be careful, Yuki Eiri. He may be your lover, but he's _my_ vocalist."

"And lyricist," Yuki reminds him, smiling slightly. "Rest assured; this won't happen again. Not in my brother-in-law's recording studio, in any case. I do respect Tohma."

"I'm sure he'd be flattered," K replies dryly as he pushes the door open once more.

As it swings closed, Yuki reaches into the pocket of his pants for a packet of cigarettes and his lighter. The _Puri-Curi_ picture of him and Shuichi is still there, albeit starting to peel off. Yuki smiles. Just as he thinks that it's time they made another set, K's head pokes back into the toilets.

"THERE'S NO SMOKING IN HERE, YOU ASS!"

* * *

**End note:** okay, wow. It's finished! Took me so much longer that I thought it would... -counts- Eight days! Ouch. But hey, 2409 words! Look out for the rest of the Perils – I've got plenty more ideas -grins evilly- 

Translations:

Nani? – what?

Baka – idiot, fool

Ano/eto – um, uh

Hai/uhn/aah – yes/yeah

Hontouni? – Really?

Watashi no baka – my idiot

Arigatou – thank you

Kawaii baka – cute idiot

Gambaru – I'll do my best

Puri-Curi – short for '_Purinto_ _Culabu_' which the Japanese pronunciation of '_Print Club'_ ('r' replaces 'l' in many English words)


	3. Writing in Bed

**Authoress's** **note:** _gomen-nasai!_ Okay, so this took a long time to write. Actually, no, that's not entirely correct. I wore all of this in a few sittings, but I wanted more smut, so I decided to expand a bit. But then I got stuck. So I've decided to leave it here, with just the suggestion of the smut. I hope it's enough for now :) I already have a new idea and I'll be working on it!

Words in Japanese are in _italics_, and translations are in the end note.

**Rating: **M. This is **SMUT**, people!!

**Disclaimer: **if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

The song _Blaze_ belongs to Kotani Kinya, who also does Shuichi's singing voice in the _Gravitation_ anime. _Tsubasa_ _Chronicle _is © of CLAMP.

* * *

**The Perils of Writing in Bed**

"_Shindou-kun, Shindou-kun, Shindou-kun, Shindou-kun, Shindou-kun, Shindou-kun_..."

Shuichi takes one look at Sakano and grins at Hiro as he closes the door behind him. "How long has he been like this, Hiro?"

Hiro rolls his eyes at his fellow band-mate. "Not funny, Shuichi. _Osoi-de_."

"Again," says Fujisaki, crossing his arms. "Of all days to be late, Shindou-san... You're lucky K-san is out!"

"Shindou-kun!" The distraught producer straightens his tie and maneuvers Shuichi into a chair by the table. All three band members are now seated, but Sakano remains standing, fiddling with the top sheet of a stack of papers sitting on the end of the table. Finally, the nervous producer takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes to those of his band.

"Clamp has made us an offer."

Shuichi snaps to attention. "Clamp?"

Sakano nods. "They want us to do the opening theme for their newest anime."

Shuichi's eyes widen. "Do you mean ... are you ... is it...?"

Sakano hesitates. "_Ano_..."

"_Tsubasa_ _Chronicle_," says Fujisaki smugly.

Shuichi's eyes glaze over. "_Tsubasa_ _Chronicle_... _hontouni_?"

Sakano nods. "_Aah_."

"_Hontonou_ _hontouni_?"

"_Aah_."

Hiro sees where this is going and buries his face in his hands, torn between laughing at poor Sakano-san and hitting Shuichi. Beside him, Fujisaki is quickly catching on.

"_Hontonou_ _hontonou hontouni_?"

"_HAI!!_" the two band-mates yell at last.

Shuichi nearly hits the roof. Hiro idly wonders if they'll have to ask K to scrape him off the ceiling with a spatula. Then a more relevant though occurs to him. "Sakano-san, who's doing the end song?"

"Hmm?" Sakano is too preoccupied staring wide-eyed at Shuichi as the vocalist dances about the room, quoting random characters out of the _Tsubasa_ _Chronicle_ manga.

"Do we know who's doing the ending song?"

"Oh... _uhn_, just let me check... I know I have it here somewhere..." Sakano disappears behind the stack of papers, finally coming up with one. "We're actually scheduled to meet with her in a few days – assuming we accept the job, of course."

"_Nani_? Of COURSE we're accepting!"

"_Hai, hai,_ Shindou-kun, of course we're accepting. May I continue?" Sakano turns back to Hiro. "_Shachou_ has offered her to record the single here at NG Studios, if she's interested, and if her label agrees. Seeing as CLAMP wants the songs to be compatible, it only makes sense our homebase be the same recording studio."

"Yes, but do you know her _name_?" Hiro asks with exaggerated patience.

"_Eto_... ah, here it is! Sakamoto Maaya."

Shuichi stops dancing. "Sakamoto Maaya?" he asks with wide eyes.

"You know her?" Hiro asks, surprised.

"_Uhn_," Shuichi nods. "She works for _Victor Entertainment_."

"And is she good?" Fujisaki asks.

"She's _awesome_," says Shuichi, sitting down in his chair, his expression now serious. "What about the music? Who's composing the music?"

Sakano consults a different page. "Kajiura Yuki." He takes another glance. "Also of _Victor Entertainment_."

"Kajiura Yuki... We're going to be working with Sakamoto Maaya... We're doing a song for CLAMP..." He looks up at his band-mates and their producer, eyes shining. "This is incredible!"

* * *

"_Tadaima_." 

It is only very recently that Yuki has started saying this when he arrives home. He says it quietly, never knowing if Shuichi is home to hear it or not. But on the occasion that he is, Yuki enjoys hearing his lover answer with,

"_Okaeri!_"

This time the greeting comes from the hallway between the bathroom and the bedroom. Yuki makes his way towards Shuichi's voice to find him on his way to their bedroom, towel slung low around his hips and normally bubble-gum-pink hair still damp, now a darker fuchsia in colour.

"I've always wondered if you walk around half-naked when I'm not here," Yuki says as he walks up behind his lover and wraps his arms around him. "Now I know the answer."

"Ha, ha, Yuki." Shuichi wraps his arms around Yuki's, pressing his still-wet back against Yuki's chest. Yuki lets out an annoyed exclamation and releases his shorter lover, straightening and looking down at his now-wet shirtfront. Shuichi turns around to grin evilly at him. "That's what you get for making jokes on a wet vocalist." He sticks out his tongue and makes a dash for the bedroom, closing and barricading the door behind him. Though locked, the door fails to stifle Shuichi's laughter.

Sighing, Yuki heads for the kitchen, taking his shirt off and draping it over the back of a chair. He opens the refrigerator and takes a cursory look, deciding on takeout.

"Oi, Shuichi," he yells down the hallway. "What do you think about takeout for tonight?"

"Takeout?" Shuichi's head pops around the corner. He is dressed now, in a pair of boxers and an oversized T-shirt. "Yuki, it's almost eleven PM!"

"It is?" Yuki checks his watch to discover that it is indeed seventeen minuets to eleven at night. _Where did the last four hours go?_ he wonders to himself. "How long have you been home?"

"Not long," Shuichi says as he walks into the kitchen, reaching up to trace circles on Yuki's bare chest. "I ate on the way home."

"I see." Yuki buries his head in Shuichi's now mostly-dry hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. _Wait a minuet_... "That's not your usual shampoo, is it?" He pulls back to look at Shuichi's face. "What happened to that strawberry-kiwi shampoo you like so much?" _Or was I the one who liked it so much?_

"Oh... I ran out a few days ago."

"Why didn't you put it on the shopping list?"

"Because there is no list, Yuki. You threw it out."

Yuki frowns. "I did no such thing."

"Yes you did. You threw it out a week ago because didn't want to go grocery shopping..." Shuichi's face screws in concentration. "What were your exact words? 'Ever again in my fucking life.' I think it's because you keep getting ambushed by rabid fangirls in the SevenEleven and AM/PM."

"I... Did I, really?" Yuki very vaguely remembers something of the sort. He shrugs it off. "Well, you'd know all about rabid fangirls, ne?"

* * *

Yuki steps out of the shower, dressed in a pair of sleeping pants. He takes the towel from his shoulders and dries his hair on his way to the bedroom, where he finds Shuichi already in bed, pillows propped up against the headboard and writing pad in his lap. A stack of manga books sits on the nightstand, Shuichi's customary thick black marker sticking out of the top one as though marking a page. Shuichi is riffling through another book, but he looks up to smile at Yuki as he enters the room. "Hi." 

"Are you writing a new lyric?" Yuki asks.

It is almost frightening, the level on which Shuichi is able to connect to words written on paper. Yuki has long ago forgotten the feeling of a fresh page beneath his favorite pen, now too accustomed to the sound of tapping keys to be able to produce anything hand-written which could be considered worthy of print. Pen and paper is also what gives Shuichi the freedom to write anywhere he wishes; Yuki must rely on his laptop, which he cannot carry everywhere.

"_Uhn_," Shuichi replies, lifting up the manga book so Yuki can see. "We got an offer from CLAMP! We're doing the opening theme for _Tsubasa_ _Chronicle_!"

Yuki takes a closer look as he settles on his side of the bed. "_Tsubasa_ _Chronicle_? Is that the manga with the girl who loses her feathers or something like that?"

"Memories," Shuichi corrects, "she looses her memories, and they take the shape of feathers. She and her –"

"I'm sure you can tell me the entire story by heart, Shuichi, but I don't really need to know, do I?"

"Not really, no." Shuichi grins. "But I _can _tell you about the hot yaoi couple..."

Yuki sinks down onto the bed with a sigh. "How is it you manage to find yaoi in every manga you read?"

"It's not like I'm _looking_ for it, Yuki!" Shuichi laughs. "CLAMP practically throws them at us!" He opens up a page of the manga and thrusts it at Yuki's face. "Look at Kurogane and Fye and tell me they're not cute together!"

Yuki studies the page briefly, and reluctantly admits that the couple on the page is indeed cute, "But we're cuter."

"Awwww, Yuki..." Shuichi shines a thousand-watt smile at him and puts the manga on the nightstand, taking his marker out of the other book. He picks up his pad and props it on his knees, yanking the cap of the pen off with his teeth. Yuki rolls his eyes and turns off the lamp by his bedside. He settles down under the blankets and listens as Shuichi scribbles various things down on his notepad. He can tell by the lengths of the penstrokes that Shuichi is not writing but drawing.

It never ceases to amuse the novelist how silly little caricatures and doodles can get Shuichi in the mood. Though, considering that this time he is writing a lyric to go with an existing story, perhaps he needs a bit more time to get into it.

_Apparently not so long,_ Yuki thinks as he hears the penstrokes shorten into Shuichi's quick, messy scrawl. Soon enough, the tapping begins. Yuki closes his eyes and gives a mental sigh. Shuichi has turned the pen around and is tapping its other end on the pad, supposedly in time to the tune of the lyric. Yuki is secretly impressed – it has never taken Shuichi so little time to find a tune.

Unsatisfied with the tapping, Shuichi turns to humming. Yuki almost sighs aloud this time, but keeps silent, remembering the last time he interrupted Shuichi in his lyric- and tune-finding process.

Sleeping on the sofa was not pleasant.

Finally, the humming is replaced with actual singing, quiet and hesitant. Shuichi's first attempt at the opening line of the new lyric.

"_Hatenaki_ _yume motomeru… shirube – naki sekai de…_"

Yuki can almost feel the moment the spark lights. He knows then that this night is lost; Shuichi will be up all night, or at least a few hours.

_Fuck it_, he thinks. _I'm getting some sleep tonight. I don't care what I have to do to him to get him to sleep._

Nodding to himself, Yuki turns onto his stomach and shimmies under the blankets. Beside him, Shuichi is oblivious.

"_Kasanaru_ _omoi… kokoro tsukisasu… kodou…_"

Thankful he'd decided last time they moved to get a king-sized bed after all, Yuki carefully maneuvers himself underneath the blankets. Shuichi finally seems to notice when Yuki bumps into one of his legs.

"_Ano_… Yuki? What're you doing down there?"

Yuki freezes. "Uh. Just looking for something."

"Eh? What, did you loose a sock or something?"

"No, not exactly…" Yuki wraps both hands around Shuichi's ankles and pulls, hard. Shuichi's legs, previously bent at the knee with his writing pad resting against them, now lay flat on the bed, with Yuki in between them.

"Wha—YAAH! Yuki! What're you doing?" Shuichi yelps as the sudden tug on his legs sends him into an ungainly half-sprawl against the headboard; pad, pen and manga books scatter onto the floor. "Yuki?!"

And then Shuichi feels his boxers being tugged down his legs, feels Yuki settle between his legs and mumble, "Ah, _mitsukete_…"

Shuichi's eyes widen in realization at what's about to happen between his legs. "_Shimata_… Yuk-aaaah…" Shuichi goes cross-eyed as Yuki's mouth envelopes his limp – though not for long – cock. He lets out a breathless whimper when the suction starts. "Okay, okay, I get the-the message! No more writing in-in bed! Yukiiiiii, let go!"

Yuki hums slightly around the flesh in his mouth, and Shuichi's head snaps back against the headboard as he feels himself harden. He takes a shuddering breath. "I've – I've put the pen down, Yuki, it's... m'not writing anymo-Yuki! Oh…"

And thus ended Shuichi's writing-in-bed career, having understood the perils involved.

* * *

Translations:

Osoi-de – you're late  
Ano/eto – um, uh  
Hai/uhn/aah – yes/yeah  
Hontouni? – Really?  
Nani? – what?  
Shachou – President (as in, Seguchi-san)  
Tadaima – I'm home  
Okaieri – welcome home  
Baka – idiot, fool  
Mitsukete – found it  
Shimata – shit (as in, the swearword)

Song translation:

We're seeking our endless dreams in a world with no guidance...

With tangled emotions and a heart-piercing beat...


	4. Refusing to Take an Umbrella

**AN:** woohee, a new peril!! I, uh, wrote this at work. Yes yes, I wrote GAY PORN at WORK. It started as a 100-word drabble meant for _A Picture's Worth a Hundred Words_, but was too long. So I tried to channel it into a chapter for _Perils_ – but there was no porn. And then, quite suddenly, the fluffbunnies spat out the pornbunnies. One approached me cautiously; it gave me the idea, but the actual smut came last. Still, it's here! And there's a song! (© me) And (**SPOILER**!) bath-sex!!!

**Rating: **M. This is **SMUT**, people!!

**Disclaimer: **if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

**Special thanks:** to The Velvet Ghost, who beta-read this for me. You would not BELIEVE the amount of mistakes I made typing this. Just goes to show how long it's been since I've written a long, proper fic. Velly's response? "I love this fic. The smut scene nearly cooked me." So be prepared ;)

* * *

**The Perils of Refusing to Take an Umbrella**

"Shuiiiiiiiiichiiiiiiii..."

K awarded the name several syllables more than the three it usually boasted. "You'd better finish this lyric today," he continued in the same sickly-sweet voice (though the Magnum held in one twitching hand rather ruined the picture). "Or we'll be a lyric short for that CD of yours Seguchi wants to promote, and you know how he gets when he's under pressure –"

Shuichi stood up suddenly, chair scraping over the floor and hands thudding on the tabletop. "Yes, I know how he gets under pressure, K-san," he said, voice steady though his arms shook. "Seguchi-san becomes a whirlwind of activity under pressure. That works fine for him, and for NG Studios. But do you remember –"

"Shu, calm down," Hiro stood up too, trying to soothe his band-mate and friend; he saw where this was heading. He placed a hand on Shuichi's trembling shoulder. "Shuichi –"

Shuichi shrugged Hiro's hand off angrily; he continued to stare at their manager, and now his voice was not quite as steady as he'd have liked: "– do you remember how _I_ get when I'm under pressure, K?"

K's gun had returned to its holster the moment Shuichi rejected Hiro's touch. He knew he'd crossed a line. A line Shuichi had drawn in the sand several months ago, after a particularly difficult breakdown. They'd needed a song, and fast – so K had pressured, nagged, and threatened Shuichi to produce a workable lyric. Eventually, Shuichi had snapped, and stormed out of the studio.

When Yuki found him several hours later, huddled on a bench in their park, he'd taken him home, put him to bed, and gone to NGS to kick K's ass. Only Hiro's calm words and his pleas to go see Shuichi prevented a fight, and after talking to Shuichi, Hiro had restored peace.

He'd then proceeded to give K a verbal thrashing himself, and made him swear to never pressure Shuichi again, or NGS would lose a guitarist as well as a vocalist/lyricist.

So, grimacing at the memory of that threat, K had holstered his weapon when the two friends stood fuming before him. "All right, all right," sorry," he said in English, his empty hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "Yes, Shuichi, I remember how you get when you're under pressure. You get stuck. I'm sorry."

Shuichi deflated. He sank back down into his chair and rested his head on his folded arms on the table. "It's not just that," he said, voice muffled. "I've been working so hard these past two months, I've hardly seen Yuki at all. I think he's actually starting to worry about me."

K, Hiro and Fujisaki shared a glance over Shuichi's head, eyebrows raised in identical looks of 'I-highly-doubt-that'. Hiro decided to give his best friend the benefit of the doubt.

"Well, once you finish here, it's our turn to work it. Suguru-kun and I will take over, we'll get the music done in time for the press conference tomorrow. You don't have to come, we'll cover for you. Go home to Yuki and give him the time of your life," he finished with a grin. K and Fujisaki groaned at the mental image, but Shuichi giggled. He stood up and hugged Hiro.

"Thanks, Hiro. You always know what to say to me."

"That's because I've known you forever, _baka_," Hiro ruffled his hair. "Now here," he steered the lyricist back to the desk and handed him his thick black marker. "I saw that gleam in your eyes. You've gotten an idea, haven't you?"

Shuichi laughed. "You really have known me forever." Flipping his writing pad to a blank page, Shuichi began to write. Hiro, Fujisaki and K craned their necks over his shoulders to read the lyric as it came into being, Shuichi's quick, erratic penstrokes giving them pause more than once.

_I want to come home to you  
__To tell you all the adventures I've had  
__I thought of you the entire way  
__Of your fingertips against my lips  
__I remembered the kiss we shared before I left  
__Can't you see?  
__I've wanted to return to you  
__From the moment I stepped onto the road  
__That led me away from our home_

Suguru was already hearing the music. This lyric was telling a story, and storytelling songs had a certain kind of rhythm. He'd have to run it by Shuichi, of course, but he'd never once gotten the wrong vibe about Shuichi's songs. It was what made him such an extraordinary musician: his extensive skills on the synthesizer aside, he possessed the innate ability to read words and find their music. His fingers moved on their own, playing air-piano. Suguru caught himself and grinned. He only played air-piano when a tune caught him hard. He already loved this song.

_I loved you from the moment I met you  
__I didn't even ask your name  
__You hated me at first  
__Or did you love me too?  
__I could never tell, I still can't  
__But I like to think to myself  
__Late at night after we've made love  
__That you love me as much as I love you  
__As much as I love you_

Hiro's mind was spinning. This song was obviously about Yuki, but he was probably the only one who knew that it was word for word. He wondered if Shuichi really doubted Yuki's love for him. Hiro had known that Yuki loved Shuichi when the novelist had gone to find Aizawa from ASK. Hiro had never been quite as scared as he'd been that night – seeing Shuichi in that state had rattled him badly, but going to see Yuki, well... Hiro had never tried to intimidate such an intimidating person before.

_I went on a journey  
__Because we both needed space  
__Time to dream, room to dance  
__But I never wanted to leave  
__Did you miss me?  
__I danced alone, thinking of you  
__And I slept alone, dreaming of you  
__My dance was clumsy, my dreams cloudy  
__It rained inside me every night_

K was relieved. He was very lucky to have Hiroshi still in the band – in a roundabout way, Hiro was even more valuable than Shuichi. Because without Hiro, Shuichi wouldn't do any good to anyone. They were a package pair. Hiro could have done well enough in any band; K had even heard him singing once, and thought that if the guitarist wanted it badly enough, he could have a brilliant solo career. But Hiro was fond enough of Shuichi to want to spend his life supporting him, content with shining in the background.

_It's hard, being with you  
__The pressure sometimes keeps me down  
__The walls like to close in on me  
__But lately you've started standing up  
__And holding out your arms  
__Pushing back the walls  
__Keeping out the rain  
__And then I realize  
__That sometimes it rains inside you too  
__Is it raining inside you now?_

Sakano smiled at the sight that greeted his eyes when he stepped into the room. Everyone was gathered around Shuichi, who was seated at the desk and writing furiously in his pad. Suguru was playing air-piano, his fingers dancing across the tabletop. Hiro had a hand on Shuichi's shoulder, the gesture one of brotherly affection. K's hands were nowhere near his guns, and Sakano knew the tall blond American well enough to recognize the tilt of his head: K was pleased, but also anxious. The tension showed in his back – Sakano could see the muscles bunched in his shoulders.

_I like to think to myself  
__Late at night after we've made love  
__That you love me as much as I love you  
__As much as I love you  
__Sometimes it rains inside us too  
__It rains inside us now_

Shuichi penned his signature just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

He presented the pad to Hiro, who took it over to one of the computers where he typed the lyric down under Shuichi's strict supervision. Hiro was the only person Shuichi trusted to handle his lyrics, and he never typed them himself. He kept all the handwritten drafts (of which he had hundreds) safe in a folder at home; not even Yuki knew where he kept it.

While K waited with twitching fingers for the laser printer to warm up and print the lyric sheet, Suguru outlined his ideas for Shuichi. Shuichi listened intently while the keyboardist played some of the music he'd thought of, and approved of it all with a smile. Suguru knew he'd pay for it later; Shuichi was never satisfied with a first draft of anything. But they'd work it out; by the time Shuichi would come up with something he wanted to change, Suguru will have thought of it himself and have it ready. Hiro was already setting up his guitar, prepared to work along Suguru's guidelines. He may be a genius when it comes to playing guitar, but Suguru was an even greater genius when it came to music in general.

Once K was gone (no doubt to present the lyric to Seguchi) and Hiro and Suguru engrossed in their work, Shuichi zipped up his sweater, shouldered his backpack, and bid them both good night. He stood for a few seconds at the doors of the building's lobby, mentally preparing himself for the journey home. A short sprint would take him to the subway station closest to the studio, but the walk home from the train to the apartment would take him at least ten minutes, even if he ran.

_Never mind,_ he thought, _I don't mind a little rain_.

* * *

Yuki sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. Shuichi had weaned him off the normal kind and he'd switched to de-caff a few months ago, but Yuki kept a secret stash of normal caffeinated coffee for his occasional all-nighters pending deadlines. Tonight he was drinking it because he was tired – but he had to stay up. He was waiting for Shuichi. It was fast approaching midnight, and Yuki was getting worried. 

Shuichi had been working unbelievably hard for the past two months, and despite his better judgment, Yuki considered interfering. He'd called Tohma twice this week, but the slippery bastard had avoided his blunt questions both times, saying all was well.

The fuck all was well. Shuichi spent more hours at the recording studio than he did at home. He'd lost weight, grown irritable, and if he ever got home early enough that Yuki considered sex, Shuichi was too exhausted. They'd not been intimate in nearly a month.

Yuki knew that the hard work was paying off – Shuichi kept him well updated on the success of the band. But he neglected to mention the negative effect it was having on his health. Yuki planned to stay up until Shuichi came home, and then they would talk. This had to stop.

Thunder crashed outside, and Yuki suddenly realized that it was raining. Damn it, Shuichi never took an umbrella, though they had a folding one he could easily fit into his backpack. Pouring his coffee down the sink – somehow caffeinated coffee tasted all wrong now that he was used to de-caff – he went to the bathroom and rummaged around in the cabinets until he found the largest, warmest, most fluffiest towel they owned. He checked if there was enough hot water, turned the heating on in the bedroom, and returned to the kitchen.

The door opened as he was crossing the hall. Shuichi tiptoed in quietly, probably thinking Yuki was asleep. His sneakers made obscene squelching sounds as he stepped out of them, and Yuki could see the way his clothes stuck to his body when he peeled them off. He doubted the wisdom of disrobing right there in the doorway, but he guessed Shuichi just didn't want his wet clothes dripping on the parquet.

He waited until Shuichi was down to his boxers, standing there shivering on the small area of tiled floor by the door, before he stepped out of the hallway and wrapped the large towel around him. Shuichi jumped in his arms, uttering a surprised cry. "Yuki! Y-you scared me." Despite the surprise, Shuichi's body leaned into his embrace, subconsciously craving body heat. "What are you d-doing st-till up? It's r-really l-l-late."

"I was waiting for you, _baka_. Why you refuse to take an umbrella I'll never understand." Yuki rubbed the towel against Shuichi's cold body, trying to generate some friction. "What possessed you to walk home in this weather? At this hour! Why didn't you call me when you saw it was raining?"

"I – I didn't think you'd still b-be up," Shuichi stuttered. His teeth were chattering. "D-didn't want-t-to wake you up," he mumbled. Rolling his eyes, Yuki turned him around in his arms, wrapping the towel tightly around him and effectively pinning his arms to his sides.

"Come on," he said, half-dragging, half-carrying Shuichi to the bathroom. "Into the shower with you."

"No, Yukiiiiiii, I just want to go t-to bed-d..." Shuichi attempted to turn towards their bedroom, but Yuki steered him the other way. "'m so tired..."

"If you go to sleep now, you'll get sick." _He's probably got a fever already_, Yuki thought. "You have to get warm." He sat Shuichi on the closed toilet-seat and quickly stripped off his own clothes. Stepping into the shower, he turned on the water and waited until the temperature was hot enough. The bathroom filled with steam quickly. Reaching over to Shuichi, Yuki unrolled him from the towel and pulled him into the bath. The lyricist was practically asleep on his feet, but the spray of warm water in his face revived him slightly.

"Mmm, Yuki... 're we having shower-sex?" As the heat thawed his legs, Shuichi fell to the bottom of the tub with a wet _thud-splash_. Yuki followed him, putting the plug in the drain and switching the water flow from the shower-head to the faucet. He maneuvered Shuichi around until he was between his legs, his still-cold back flush against his own warm chest. He let the faucet run until the water was as high as it could go without spilling over the side.

"No, Shu-chan," he said quietly, "no sex. We're just having a bath." He cradled the small body with his own, hoping the combination of body heat and warm water would stage off the hypothermia he knew was lurking in the chilled figure. His arms snaked around Shuichi's stomach, his chin resting against the wet pink hair. He could feel his own skin turning red from the heat, but Shuichi's was only just returning to its healthy colour. His thin chest was rising and falling steadily, and Yuki was sure he'd fallen asleep until Shuichi spoke up.

"Don't you want me anymore, Yuki?"

"What?" At first Yuki was just relieved to hear that Shuichi wasn't stuttering with cold anymore. But then the question sank in, and he laughed. "Of course I want you, Shuichi. We haven't had sex in almost a month; believe me, I'd love to. But I don't think your body can handle it just now."

"Oh really?" Shuichi shifted against him, and Yuki's eyes widened as one hand snaked between them to grasp his cock. "Think very highly of your skill, don't you?"

"Shu-Shuichi... Are you sure you want to? Now?" If the motions of Shuichi's hand were anything to go by, Yuki thought he was more than sure. His breath hitched in his chest; he was beginning to grow hard. Water sloshed over the side of the tub. "You – you're tired. Don't you want to go to bed?"

"If I go to sleep, I'll get sick," Shuichi replied, twisting around so they were face-to-face, on his knees between Yuki's legs; he continued stroking Yuki the entire time. "I have to get warm." He leaned forward, lips – no longer blue and trembling – trailing over Yuki's neck, tracing tendons and pulse-point. "Would you like to warm me up?" he whispered against Yuki's heated skin.

"Oh..." Yuki had never been so aroused. Somehow, he felt as thought it would be taking advantage of Shuichi to do this – he was sick, probably hallucinating – but clearly he wanted it. Yuki was achingly hard, and Shuichi was already half-way there. His hands moved of their own accord: one went to Shuichi's cock, and the other to his face, bringing their lips together for a kiss. "What are we going to use for lube?"

Panting, Shuichi reached behind Yuki's head to the edge of the bath, where they kept the shower essentials. Hidden among there was a bottle of scented bath oil – vanilla, good for relaxation. Shuichi rather doubted it had been designed to be used as lubricant, but it would do well enough. Yuki opened the bottle – he had to try several times, as his hands were wet and shaking; Shuichi had leaned down and started nuzzling his cock – and dipped his fingers inside. The oil sliding over his skin was a pleasant sensation, and he rubbed some into Shuichi's back before his hand trailed down towards the puckered opening.

Yuki slid one finger inside his lover just as Shuichi took his cock into his mouth. They both froze for several seconds, eyes closed, savoring the various sensations flooding through them. Shuichi focused on the taste of Yuki in his mouth and the smell of vanilla filling the bathroom. Yuki tried to control his breathing, his cock jumping in Shuichi's talented mouth. Concentrating hard, he worked another oil-coated finger in, and the moment of silence broke as they moaned together. More water spilled over the side of the tub.

Shuichi lifted his head from Yuki's cock. "Yuki... want you..."

Yuki grunted s he hoisted Shuichi over his hips – the tub was large enough for them to shift around – and lowered him carefully. Shuichi used one hand on Yuki's shoulder and another on the tiled wall to steady himself. The head of Yuki's cock pushed through the first ring of muscle, and Shuichi moved both arms to wrap around Yuki's neck. He lowered himself down slowly, his head tilting back more with every thick inch of flesh that slid into him, his eyes sliding shut. He could feel Yuki shuddering beneath him, and slowed his pace even more; they were both overstimulated, and if they went too fast now it wouldn't last long.

After Yuki was buried completely they held still for nearly a minute, trying to come down from the first high. Then Shuichi flexed his legs, rising up just slightly, and let himself fall back down. Yuki's hands went to his waist, helping him lift himself higher each time, then letting go and watching with lust-filled eyes as Shuichi impaled himself.

If Shuichi's eyes hadn't been closed in bone-melting pleasure, they would have been locked with Yuki's, and then he would have been lost. Yuki was sexy in every feature of his body, but it was his eyes that held Shuichi – those narrow golden eyes, which sometimes frightened him but just as often turned him into a puddle of goo with a single smoldering gaze. At the moment, those eyes were heavy-lidded and dark, pleasure turning their colour more closely to that of amber.

Yuki began thrusting. Every time Shuichi lowered himself, Yuki rose up to meet him. A litany of noises filled the bathroom: grunts and moans and mewls, panting; after one particularly hard thrust, even a shaky scream. Yuki felt that if the bathroom had not already been misted by the hot water, then the heat rising from their bodies would have at the very least fogged up the mirror.

They came together, Shuichi clenching tight around Yuki and one of the novelist's hands covering his own around his cock. Sinking down into the now-lukewarm water, breathing hard, they gradually came down from their euphoria. Yuki pulled the chain of the plug with his foot, and opened the faucet to add some more hot water. He gently washed Shuichi and himself, using his cupped hands to let gentle rivulets of water run over their sweaty skin. They both smelled of vanilla.

He coaxed Shuichi to stand up, and reached for the large towel, still lying on the toilet seat, to dry him off. He eyed the floor of the bathroom with amusement; the bath mat and his sleeping clothes (which he'd left on the floor in his hurry to get Shuichi in the shower) were soaked. He bundled Shuichi into the towel, wrapped a smaller one around his own waist, and picked Shuichi up. The vocalist was already drifting off; all the stress and emotions of the past two months seemed to have drained out of him along with his orgasm.

Shuichi woke a little when Yuki settled him under the blankets. He smiled, and Yuki smiled back a bit before he turned off the light and slipped into the bed next to him. Shuichi curled up and Yuki spooned against his back, one arm hooked possessively around his stomach. Just before Shuichi fell asleep, he remembered the tune Suguru had suggested for _Rain Inside_. He replayed it inside his head, and the words rose to his lips as well:

"_I like to think to myself  
__Late at night after we've made love  
__That you love me as much as I love you  
__As much as I love you  
__Sometimes it rains inside us too  
__It rains inside_..."

Yuki heard these words in the darkness and wondered if they were part of a lyric Shuichi had written, of if he'd just made them up. It wouldn't be the first time Shuichi had gotten inspired after sex. Yuki fell asleep still wondering.

* * *

Yuki always slept well after sex. Which is why the incessant ringing of a mobile phone annoyed him even more than it might have usually done. He sat up groggily and glared in the direction of the ringtone – _Smashing Blue­_ – Shuichi's. Leaning out of the bed as far as he could without actually falling out, he managed to snag one of the straps of Shuichi's backpack and drag it to him. He dug inside it for a few seconds before finding the ringing menace. He punched the answer button. 

"What?" he hissed.

"_Are? Yuki-san?_" the hesitant voice of Shuichi's producer – what was the man's name? Satano? Sakano? – asked. "_Where's Shindou-kun? We need him over here_."

"He's not coming to work today," Yuki said. There was a stunned pause on the other end of the line. Yuki was just about to hang up when he heard another voice:

"_Ah, Sakano-san_. _Has Shindou-san finally answered?_"

"Tohma! Sakano, put him over."

"_Ano_... _Shachou_... _it's Yuki-san_."

"_Eiri_," Tohma's voice was light, but Yuki knew him well enough to hear the steel edge hidden beneath the cheerfulness. "_We need Shindou-san here at this press conference. If you could drive him over –_"

"I won't," Yuki said savagely. "Tohma, you crossed the line! You've been working him too hard, he's exhausted. Last night he got home after midnight, soaked to the bone. Now he's sick, and he's not getting out of bed."

"_Now, Eiri_," the steel was starting to cut through the cheer.

"Don't you 'now Eiri' me, Tohma. He's got a fucking fever." Yuki looked at the window; the curtains were drawn. He sighed. "Is it raining?"

There was a brief pause; Tohma was looking for a window. "_It is_."

"Then he's not coming. You can shove that press conference up your ass." Yuki hung up, then shut the mobile off. He threw it, perhaps with more force than was strictly necessary, across the room. Shuichi stirred under the covers, and Yuki swore silently; he hadn't meant to wake him.

"Yuki?"

"Go back to sleep, Shu-chan." Yuki straightened the covers and tucked them around their shoulders. Shuichi looked at him with hazy, tired eyes.

"Yuki... I feel awful..."

Yuki was instantly alert. "Did I hurt you last night?"

"No, no..." Shuichi buried himself under the covers and curled into a ball, wrapping Yuki's arms around himself. "I just feel sick," he muttered. "I'm achey all over."

"It's the fever," said Yuki. Shuichi groaned; Yuki chuckled. "Just one of the perils of refusing to take an umbrella, Shu-chan."

"Huh. What's the other?"

"Bath-sex, I suppose."

Yuki felt Shuichi shaking with laughter under the covers. The tousled pink head poked out of the covers and he smiled at him. "Maybe I should keep refusing to take an umbrella and get sick more often."

Yuki leaned down to kiss him. "Don't you dare."

* * *

**End note:** AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH I finally wrote another Peril!!! What do you think? ;D 


	5. Tour Buses

**A/N:** Holy crap. Has it really been a year since I last posted a Peril?? *dodges several sharp objects thrown at her*

I, uh... the drabblebunnies held me captive, yes! They only allowed me to write 100-word drabbles and killed any perilbunny that dared approach the hideout. Even the porn ransom the perilbunnies offered wouldn't get them to set me free. In the end I escaped by force-feeding the drabblebunnies some smut of my own (you'll notice a few especially smutty drabbles in 'Picture 200') and here I am with a brand-new Peril for you =P

*runs away*

**Rating: **M. This is **SMUT**, people!!

**Disclaimer: **if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

**Prompt: **credit for this idea goes to **singinshowtunes**, who requested on 'Picture 200': bondage. Everybody loves bondage. Bondage at home, bondage at work, bondage on a tour bus, bondage backstage, bondage EVERYWHERE!! woot.

* * *

**The Perils of Tour-Buses**

Shuichi should have been suspicious when Hiro and Suguru _both_ stayed behind after the show that night. They usually sat in the tour-bus together, the three of them, talking and joking and sometimes even working on new songs while they were still caught in the rush of performing live.

It wasn't so unusual for the band-members to stay on the stage even after the concert had ended. Hiro often preferred to take care of his guitars on his own, instead of letting an unfamiliar army of stage-lackeys tend to them. Suguru also liked to hang around occasionally, taking an interest in the setup of the stage (which he never had time to admire before the show began).

Tonight's concert had been especially fantastic, and Shuichi was too pumped up to notice that he'd headed for the tour-bus on his own. It was only when someone grabbed him from behind that he realized he was alone. He struggled against strong hands, one pinning his arms behind his back and the other clamped over his mouth to silence him. Then, through the haze of adrenaline and special-effects stage-smoke, he recognized the man holding him.

_Yuki_.

He relaxed into the tight grip then, and felt more than heard Yuki's _Mmm_ of satisfaction at his submission. Yuki steered them the rest of the way to where the tour-bus was parked, and released one of Shuichi's hands so he could find the remove and open the bus's door. He twisted Shuichi's left arm high on his back to make up for the freedom of the right, and used a bruising grip on Shuichi's shoulder to force him up the stairs and into the cool interior of the bus once it was open.

**Bad Luck**'s tour-bus was like any other rock band's: snack wrappers, discarded clothes, musical instruments and lyric sheets littered every surface; the cot-beds were hastily made, and Shuichi's personal brand of clutter marked which was his. Yuki recognized Shuichi's favorite sleeping shirt – one of his own silk shirts, the one Shuichi had spilt red wine over on their eight-year anniversary. The stain had formed a roughly heart-shaped mark on the left side, and Shuichi had asked to keep it. He always packed it to sleep in during long tours that took him away from Yuki, and the novelist felt a stab of arousal at the thought of Shuichi sleeping with the scents of himself and red wine every night while on tour.

Shuichi smiled, feeling Yuki's growing erection start to poke him in the back. He moved against it, careful of his still-trapped arm, and raised his other hand to try and reach Yuki over his shoulder. That arm was captured too, and twisted back next to his left. Shuichi began to grow hard as well.

It had been a while since Yuki was this rough with Shuichi; they'd both been very busy lately. Shuichi had taken a major part in organizing the tour **Bad Luck **was currently on, and Yuki had completed one of his many book series with a best-seller that had his readers squealing with delight. They'd had sex during those hectic months, but it had been the kind of gentle, intimate touch they'd needed to center themselves and settle down for a good night's sleep before plunging back headfirst into their hard work. There had been less passion and more familiarity; certainly nothing as elaborate as bondage or D/S play.

Now they stood together in the dark, their feelings coming to a crescendo. Several weeks of celibacy while **Bad Luck **was on tour had wound them both tight. Yuki had finally cracked, a mere week before Shuichi was meant to return home, and arranged with Tohma to crash the night of their last performance. He fully intended to find Shuichi backstage, kidnap him, and have his wicked way with him for the entire night.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Now it seemed they wouldn't even last long enough to get to Yuki's hotel room. Shuichi suddenly understood – and was extremely grateful – why Hiro and Suguru had stayed behind and let him go backstage alone. K had probably known Yuki would be coming (nothing got past their manager, for better or worse) and tipped them off. They knew Yuki and Shuichi well enough to steer clear of the pair, especially during their first meeting in nearly a month. Clothes were bound to go flying, and Hiro had seen enough of a naked Shuichi in high-school gym class changing rooms, thank you very much.

Finally Shuichi had had enough; submission flew out the window as he struggled against Yuki's hold on his arms. He used a trick K had shown him, teaching the band members self defense. "You never know what perverts may be lurking around," he'd said with a leer, "and I don't mean the kind of deviants you and Yuki Eiri are, Shuichi."

So, using a combination of twisting and shoving, Shuichi freed himself and turned around. He tackled Yuki, forcing the taller man onto one of the bunks and climbing in on top of him. It was nearly dark in the tour-bus, but despite the month-long break they knew each other's bodies perfectly even in total darkness. Shuichi pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to Yuki's throat, hearing several buttons snap off Yuki's shirt in their haste to achieve some skin-on-skin contact. Shuichi himself was wearing nothing but leather pants, having shed his shirt and jacked already on the stage. Yuki was certainly appreciative of the fact, running his hands over Shuichi's sweaty back, cupping the firm, leather-covered ass that was so enticingly hovering over his tented slacks but not actually touching. He let Shuichi play the dominant for a few minutes, until he'd had enough of the tease.

He sat up, distracting Shuichi with a kiss hard enough to bruise. Shuichi's arms wrapped around his shoulders, which fit into Yuki's plans perfectly: while Shuichi was focused on the kiss (and perhaps tearing a few handfuls of hair from Yuki's head) Yuki undid the buckle on one of Shuichi's belts. He stood, dragging Shuichi's arms away from his neck and behind the vocalist's back, tongue doing some rather impressive oral acrobatics (if he did say so himself) in order to keep Shuichi from realizing what he was doing.

The belt wrapped once, twice, three times carefully around Shuichi's wrists. Yuki was a good enough judge of its length that nothing chafed or pinched, and Shuichi's circulation wouldn't be cut off. Once sure Shuichi's hands were firmly secured behind his back, Yuki let go of his mouth. Shuichi gasped like a drowning man, chest heaving and eyes glassy in the semi-darkness. Yuki smirked against his lips, and then made his way down Shuichi's naked chest, leaving kisses, bite-marks, and glistening wet trails in his wake. He paid special attention to Shuichi's nipples and collarbones, as well as his navel. And, lastly, those little hollows by his hipbones; that made Shuichi squirm and pull on his bound hands. Finally, _finally_, Yuki was rewarded with that small, keening whimper coming from Shuichi's throat.

Satisfied, his own arousal rising a notch higher, Yuki deftly undid the rest of Shuichi's belts and the leather pants themselves. Shuichi gasped as his hard length was released from the tight material and bobbed in the cool air. He squirmed again, fingers clenching and unclenching as Yuki lapped at his balls. Yuki spread his knees for better balance on the cluttered floor of the tour-bus, wrapping his hands around Shuichi's leather-clad legs and encouraging him to do the same. It wouldn't do for them to fall over in the middle of a blowjob; Shuichi would never let him live it down.

Yuki gave excellent head. Or so at least Shuichi thought, having never experienced it with anyone else. After so many years together, he found it hard to imagine sex with anyone other than the tall, handsome blond novelist he'd fallen for when he was nineteen. He sometimes found it hard to believe that Yuki had fallen for him as well, and that he'd stayed with him for so long. For the first few years of their relationship, Shuichi had lived in daily fear of Yuki leaving him, but now he was certain he had the man's heart. He'd already given Yuki his own within the first few days of knowing him, but it was only after several years together that Shuichi finally believed he had Yuki's heart as well.

At the moment, it wasn't Yuki's heart Shuichi was troubled with; rather, it was his mouth, which was doing oh-so-wonderful things to his cock. Lips and tongue and teeth and throat all carefully managed, Yuki skillfully brought Shuichi higher and higher towards the peak of his arousal, but never quite enough to tip him over the edge. Shuichi teetered there for what seemed like an eternity in his mind, but in reality was just a few minutes. He was panting harshly, his chest heaving and covered with sweat. His fingers twitched, wanting to tangle in Yuki's silky blond hair, when the novelist traced the vein on the underside of his cock with his tongue. His shaky gasps filled the tour-bus; he wanted to come so badly, but Yuki had him right where he wanted, completely at his mercy. The gasps turned into whimpers gain as Yuki pulled back almost completely, sucking hard on just the head.

Then Yuki took him deep, throat compressing around him, hands at his hips to keep him steady and thumbs pressing into those sensitive hollows. Shuichi came explosively, a high, almost anguished wail escaping him and sounding suspiciously like Yuki's name.

Yuki swallowed and gently released Shuichi's member, his hands moving from Shuichi's hips to his waist in order to help him down to a sitting position on the cot. He helped Shuichi remove the pants entirely, then sat behind him and carefully undid the belt around his hands, rubbing his wrists to get rid of the red marks. He massaged Shuichi's shoulders as well; they had to hurt from being pulled back. They'd hurt even more later, with the workout Yuki had in store for his lover. A devilish grin spread across his face, but with Shuichi facing away from him, he couldn't see it.

Shuichi's eyes were closed anyway, concentrating on the amazing feelings of post-coital bliss and Yuki's capable hands kneading the ache from his shoulders. "I missed you," Yuki whispered in his ear: low, seductive; the first words spoken between them that night, and just the words Shuichi wanted to hear.

"I noticed," he breathed. "You did a very good job showing me just how much." He leaned back against Yuki so he was nearly sitting in his lap, pressing against his neglected member. Yuki hissed; the care he'd taken in treating Shuichi after the bondage had allowed him to focus on something other than his cock, and while he was still very hard, he was no longer aching for release. Sometimes, self-discipline was everything. But now, with Shuichi shifting like that in his lap – Yuki felt his arousal claw wildly higher. Shuichi leaned back and up to whisper in his ear, hair tickling Yuki's neck: "Let me show you how much I missed you too."

Yuki leaned back against the wall, allowing Shuichi the freedom of his hands in order to get at his straining cock. Shuichi knew just how to handle his balls while he sucked him – Yuki had experienced some very good blowjobs before he'd met Shuichi, but no-one knew his body quite so well as the small vocalist did now, after years together. Shuichi knew what every twitch and jerk meant; he knew just when Yuki was about to come – and how to stop it, too. Yuki was particularly pleased with Shuichi for learning that trick on his own; orgasm denial was something Yuki had learned to appreciate thanks to him.

Now, though, he wasn't sure he'd able to stand that, and Shuichi was giving as good as he'd gotten earlier, teasing Yuki mercilessly. After a few mind-numbing, bone-melting minutes of pleasure, he pulled Shuichi up and crushed their lips together. He maneuvered them towards the edge of the cot and back to a standing position, his mouth never leaving Shuichi's (the technique had proved effective before; Yuki thought he should stick to it). Once the tables were turned and Shuichi was the one panting and lightheaded again, Yuki picked up the belt. Shuichi, cheerfully resigned to his fate, offered his hands. Yuki once again wound the belt around his wrists, even more carefully this time, and then through the railing of the upper bunk. He turned Shuichi away from him before tying him in place, making sure to lean over his sweat-slick back and press himself against him, skin-on-skin.

Shuichi arched his back and pulled on his bound hands, which made Yuki growl and yank on the belt, tightening it. Shuichi flinched, bracing himself, before he realized that be belt was secured rather loosely and any tugging (whether Yuki's or his own) wouldn't really injure him. Still, that first moment had been frightening – and that one instant of fear spiked through him and went straight to his cock, which had been slowly reawakening.

Shuichi wasn't into pain so much – bondage was his kink. Sure, bondage sometimes involved a bit of pain, but it was the feeling of being restrained that he loved. For a short while, he got to throw away all his responsibilities and obligations, and let someone else take care of everything. Yuki was always careful and Shuichi trusted him with his life. Yuki was also imaginative – a fine point in a lover. Too bad there was no time for him to orchestrate anything more elaborate; the belt would have to do for now. Shuichi was sure that Yuki planned to steal him away to his hotel room after they finished in the tour-bus, and then they would have the advantage of a bed and anything Yuki may have brought with him from home.

Right on cue, as through summoned by thoughts of home, Shuichi felt the cool slickness of lubricant at his entrance. He relaxed, allowing first one and then two fingers to slip inside him with ease. Yuki's other hand went around his waist and grasped his cock, lube making the motions there smooth as well. Shuichi shuddered at the dual sensations and spread his legs wider, offering himself for Yuki to do with as he pleased.

The novelist took him up on that offer, adding another finger and brushing them hard against Shuichi's prostate. Shuichi gasped, his head bowed low between his arms. The fact that Shuichi was entirely naked while Yuki was still mostly-dressed certainly was a lovely bonus, Yuki thought. The vocalist's leather pants lay discarded on the floor next to them, but Yuki's shirt was hanging from his arms, sticking to his back with sweat. His slacks were just barely still on his hips, and Shuichi could feel them against the backs of his legs, the smooth material feeling rough to his oversensitive skin.

There was something absolutely dirty about it – being fucked naked in a semi-public place by someone who had complete and utter control over him, and who was still dressed. He only regretted that he couldn't see Yuki himself. But he could imagine exactly how the novelist looked, flushed, panting with desire, three fingers buried knuckles-deep in his ass.

The image caused Shuichi to rise up onto the balls of his feet when Yuki began scissoring his fingers, moaning as he was stretched. Then the fingers left his ass and his cock, and Yuki's hands settled on his hips as he began to push inside.

They both took a moment to catch their breath once Yuki was fully seated; Yuki stayed still as stone, though he could feel his heart racing. He concentrated on Shuichi's bare back, watching his shoulders rising and falling with his rapid breaths. Gradually he began to calm, and he could feel Shuichi settling too. When he deemed his lover ready, Yuki began to thrust.

He set a fast rhythm from the start, the pace harsh and demanding; he had a feeling they were both too far-gone for slow and gentle. Shuichi had a wonderfully short recovery time, and Yuki planned to make him come at least six times tonight – but twice would do for now, until they reached the hotel. Shuichi pushed back against him, making sure Yuki rammed his prostate with every forward movement.

"Fuck!" Shuichi's head was thrashing from side to side, and the belt creaked as he pulled on his bound hands. "Fuck, Yuki!"

Yuki chuckled in his ear. "Yes, that's the idea..." He gave another sharp thrust.

"Yuki! Ohhh... oh, oh, yes, _Yukiiiii...!_" Shuichi's back arched as Yuki took his cock in his hand again, and he came with a few short strokes. Yuki fought not to come yet, waiting until Shuichi had started breathing again, to lean close and whisper against his neck.

"That's the second time tonight you've come screaming my name," he said, and Shuichi shivered. There was something in the air, the smell of their sweat, the way Yuki's voice echoed slightly in the semi-darkness, his hot breath by his ear... Shuichi felt as though he might actually come again.

But it was Yuki's turn now, and the novelist let out a long, low moan as he climaxed, feeling Shuichi's inner muscles clamp down tighter around him. They stayed that way for several minutes, Yuki pressed flush against Shuichi and both of them leaning on the top bunk. Then Yuki felt Shuichi's knees start wobbling and hurriedly held him up by the waist until he could undo the belt around his wrists one-handed. He gently lowered the shorter man to the bed and smiled tenderly as his pink hair flopped over his face. Shuichi seemed almost asleep already.

Well. Yuki located a pack of tissues – Fujisaki's most likely – and cleaned them off as best as he could. Then he rummaged around on the floor of the bus until he found a pair of jeans that looked to be Shuichi's, and a decent T-shirt he could wear. Shuichi may not feel shy parading onstage half-naked, but Yuki doubted he'd be able to enter a hotel dressed that way.

"Come on Shuichi, get dressed," he threw the clothes on top of the vocalist's head. Shuichi muttered something indecipherable, but started dressing himself blindly anyway. Yuki restrained himself from helping him, because he knew he'd only get distracted by all that sweaty skin and then they'd never leave the bus. They'd already exhausted the tour-bus of its kinky-sex-in-a-semi-public-place appeal, and Shuichi's bandmates were sure to come soon. He contented himself with calling a cab to pick them up from the concert hall instead, and with imagining what he would do to Shuichi once they reached the hotel.

* * *

**End note:** okay, so... I just realized that this had no Japanese whatsoever. Actually, there was hardly any dialogue at all XD Not that I think you'll complain... just mentioning =P


	6. Blackouts

**Authoress's note:** so... this one's more romance than smut, IMO, but it's still enough to be rated T, hehe :P And I hope you enjoy despite the lack of really-really graphic sex ^^;;

**Rating: **M. This is **SMUT**, people!!

**Disclaimer:**if I owned the cast of _Gravitation_, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

* * *

**The Perils of ****Blackouts**

Yuki jerked awake in the middle of the night, feeling as though his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He had no idea what had woken him, only that he was now wide-awake and adrenaline was pumping through him. Then something else registered in his muddled mind: the bed was empty beside him.

Thunder crashed outside, and Yuki jumped again. So _that_ was what had woken him. Well, no wonder Shuichi wasn't in bed – he wasn't exactly a light sleeper, but a thunderstorm as violent as this was enough to keep anyone up.

Yuki grinned. No-one ever said that night was strictly for sleeping. And really, there was no way he was going to fall back asleep now with all the thunder rolling practically right on top of their building. Living in the penthouse suite had its disadvantages. Still, Yuki was sure he and Shuichi could beat the sounds of the storm together. Mind made up, he wrapped one of the bedsheets around his waist and stepped out of the bedroom.

The hallway was dark, and only long familiarity saved Yuki from a stubbed toe or a painful run-in with furniture corners. He found Shuichi curled up in a fleece blanket on the couch in the living room, reading a manga to candlelight. The sight was so strange that for a moment Yuki froze, before he remembered another unfortunate fact of the penthouse suite: big storms tended to kill their electricity.

Shuichi looked up at Yuki's approach. The flickering lights cast odd shadows across his face as he smiled and scooted over, making room on the couch and under the blanket. Yuki added his own blanket to the nest as he sat down next to Shuichi, and the younger man squeaked when he realized that Yuki was naked. Yuki chuckled and reached out, taking the manga and letting it fall over the end of the couch. He wrapped himself around Shuichi and murmured in his ear, "Can't sleep?"

Shuichi sighed and sank into his embrace. "I like thunderstorms," he said softly, as though afraid to disturb the noise of the storm. "But sometimes they're just annoying."

"Funny, that's exactly how I think of you," Yuki snickered, his hands roaming under the blanket.

"Yukiiiiiiii." Shuichi playfully slapped his hands away. "Don't be an ass."

Yuki bit the juncture of Shuichi's neck and shoulder. "You love me this way," he very nearly growled, and Shuichi shivered.

"Yeah," he breathed, "yeah, I guess I do." He wriggled in Yuki's grasp, twisting around and climbing on top of Yuki so he was straddling him. He'd managed to lose his boxer shorts in the process, and now he sat in Yuki's lap quite naked, looking down at his handsome older lover. "I really do love you," he said solemnly. He leaned down to kiss Yuki.

He didn't wait for Yuki to say it as well. He didn't expect him to say it. He never did. But Shuichi knew it, and that was enough. Yuki let him explore his mouth in a languid play of lips and tongue, his hands settling around Shuichi's waist. Their eyes fell closed, and together they lost themselves in the slow burn of passion.

Gradually they moved on to different body parts, kissing, biting, sucking; ears, neck, shoulder, chest. They spent a long time on foreplay and didn't rush. Nothing was frantic; nothing was urgent. Nothing mattered but each other.

Everything was hazy in the warm golden candlelight, their skin slippery with sweat. Shuichi fumbled for the lube in the hidden drawer of the coffee table, kept there for just such occasions. He opened it one-handed, the other hand anchored on Yuki's shoulder. Yuki slid his hands up Shuichi's sides, pausing to tickle at his ribs. He pinched the lube from Shuichi and moved to prepare him.

There was something undeniably sexy about watching Shuichi preparing himself, but tonight Yuki wanted to do it, wanted the connection, the intimacy: the care of the process as well as the passion of the act. With one hand wrapped around Shuichi's twitching cock and the fingers of his other hand repeatedly brushing against the younger man's prostate, Yuki thought the word 'passion' definitely suited Shuichi more than 'care' or 'intimacy'.

As far as intimacy went, Yuki rather liked the missionary position, but it wasn't his favorite. His favorite was this – sitting up, with Shuichi in his lap, riding him. It was just slightly dirty, and with his legs planted firmly on the ground and cushions supporting his back, provided the best leverage and angle for him to hit Shuichi's prostate. And like the missionary position, it offered the romance of face-to-face sex.

With that thought in mind, Yuki supported Shuichi as he slowly lowered himself onto his erection. Shuichi let out a shaky gasp at the sensation and slowed down even more, savoring the stretch and the fullness. Yuki remained silent, preferring to wait until he was buried completely to utter a low moan, almost lost in the sounds of the storm.

Wait a minute, he thought; that wasn't right. He'd come to Shuichi intending for them to beat the storm in volume, and here he was smothering his moans himself? Oh well. He'd never been a very vocal lover anyway. Shuichi, on the other hand... Yuki thrust up with his hips, drawing a loud cry from Shuichi. He grinned. There, that was more like it.

For the next few hours Yuki made sure they paced themselves, taking it slowly, allowing the arousal to build up each time and lead them to an all more satisfying orgasm that no amount of frantic fucking would ever achieve. He reveled in the noises he managed to wring from Shuichi, every moan and gasp and scream sounding more erotic to him that the one before it.

Thunder continued to roar outside, nearly drowning out their panting after the third orgasm. Rain lashed against the windows in a harsh staccato. One of the candles burned out with a hiss; smoke wafted over from the table like incense. Shuichi was slumped bonelessly over Yuki, still straddling his legs, his fingers clutching at the couch's upholstery as Yuki's cock softened inside him. He moaned, knowing that in a few minutes Yuki would recover. Anticipation streaked up his spine, making him shiver.

Yuki closed his eyes, feeling Shuichi tremble against him. He would never admit it, but deep down he was a hopeless romantic. And he couldn't help but think that making love to candlelight while a storm raged outside was the most romantic thing they'd ever done. And that Shuichi, his skin slick with sweat, muscles pulled taught, eyes screwed shut and biting his lip, had looked heart-achingly beautiful.

He hadn't realized he was speaking out loud until Shuichi breathed, "Oh, Yuki..." and leaned down. His lips crashed against Yuki's, and they shared a long, slow kiss. Shuichi brought his hands to Yuki's, entangling their fingers. Yuki allowed it for a moment, letting Shuichi direct the kiss, before he slid his fingers out from between Shuichi's and grabbed his wrists instead. Mouths still firmly attached, Yuki brought Shuichi's hands behind him, pressing them against the small of his back. The move pushed Shuichi down hard onto Yuki's reawakened arousal, and he broke the kiss with a hoarse cry as he came again, overstimulation making for a quick, brutal orgasm.

The storm didn't sound quite so loud anymore, Yuki thought with a grin.

* * *

Yuki woke first in the morning. It took him a minute to understand where he was and how he'd ended up there, and with the realization came a slow smile which spread across his face. He glanced down at Shuichi, still sound asleep on his chest, his head tucked under Yuki's chin. There was a dark bruise on his shoulder; Yuki had no doubt that its shape and size perfectly matched his own mouth.

He took stock of the room around them, one hand stroking Shuichi's hair gently. Candles still littered every surface; thankfully all of them had burned out by the time they fell asleep last night, or something might have caught fire and the whole place would have burned down. Yuki chuckled; candles were romantic, but a damn nuisance sometimes. The entire living room smelt of smoke. Yuki wrinkled his nose; it wasn't as acrid as cigarette smoke, but still it made him want to gag. He couldn't understand how he'd once smoked so much.

Allowing Shuichi to slowly slide down to the couch, Yuki got up. He wrapped one of the blankets around himself like a toga and went to the large windows that led out to the balcony. He opened them with a flourish, letting in cold, clean air. The rain had done Tokyo good. The fresh air would do them good, too.

Shuichi, apparently, didn't think so. He groaned from within the nest on the couch, curling in under the blanket and muttering, "Yukiiiiiii... close the windowwww... s'cold."

Yuki grinned to himself. What an opportunity. Opening yet another window, he returned to the couch and scooped up the bundle of blankets. It was harder to navigate their maze of an apartment with an armload of struggling, squealing, laughing vocalist than it had been alone in the dark. Why did they have so much furniture in the hall, anyway?

Yuki dropped his bundle on the bed. The bundle said, "Oomph! Yukiiii, why can't you ever let me sleep in?" and curled further into the blankets. Yuki patiently unwrapped it and was greeted by tousled pink hair and sleepy-angry violet eyes. "Mou... I can't even read a manga in the middle of a thunderstorm without you molesting me. You wore me out, Yuki!"

Shuichi couldn't stop the blush that crept across his cheeks as he said that; six orgasms was a new record for them, and it hadn't even been a quick, hard, white-hot-passion kind of night. It had been long, and slow, and deliberate... and Shuichi was getting hard just remembering how exhilarating – and terrifying – the thought of yet another orgasm had been. "Yuki..."

Yuki just smirked at him, hand already coated in lube and reaching for Shuichi's half-hard cock. Such were the perils of blackouts.


End file.
